


City of Stone and Shadow

by bipolaron



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Blood and Injury, Gen, Human Catra (She-Ra), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipolaron/pseuds/bipolaron
Summary: They say Bright Moon is the city that never sleeps.If they only knew. Things lurk in the dark places where mortals fear to tread. Strange creatures and mystical beings hide in plain sight. Powers older than the city itself lie dormant, waiting to be tapped by the brave and the foolhardy.Catra and Adora may have escaped their foster mother's clutches, but Bright Moon's magical underworld is fraught with danger.And Ms. Weaver doesn't intend to let them go without a fight.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	1. Penumbra

On their third day on the street, with no food and deprived of sleep, Adora began to see things.

The alleys they passed would twist and bend away from her, only to snap back into sharp relief with a shake of the head. Grasping hands and peering faces teased at the corner of her eye, fleeing into nothing when turned her head to look, her heart pounding. Once she’d nodded off leaning against a rooftop air conditioner only to start awake with a scream at the sensation of something invisible crawling up her leg.

Catra was faring no better. Adora saw the haunted look in her eye, the way she flinched away from shadowed doorways, how she grabbed Adora’s hand ever more tightly as the sun inched its way toward the horizon.

At first, the hallucinations had terrified Adora. She’d thought she was losing her mind.

The knowledge that some of them were real was a cold comfort.

It wasn’t until the second day that they’d started to see _Her_ servants. In the light of the sun, they were difficult to perceive. The pale shadow of a thin figure with nothing there to cast it. A blackbird, perched on a lightpost and so dark it might have been a hole in space. Thin fog that emerged from a subway tunnel and swam through the air like an eel seeking its prey.

They slept in shifts while the sun was still in the sky. As much as either of them could sleep.

Adora put her head down in Catra’s lap late in the afternoon of that third day, and finally exhaustion overwhelmed her fear of the shadows behind her eyes. She slipped into dark, restless unconsciousness, and the shadows followed her.

* * *

In her dreams she wandered the musty halls of their home. The ceiling above her stretched to infinity, a yawning void that tempted to swallow her in defiance of gravity. The path she followed seemed to pull away from her into the distance, but she was inevitably moving toward the Room. As much as she wished she wasn’t.

In reality she’d had to beat at the locked door, slam the latch with her tiny fists, screaming and begging until the ancient mechanism gave way.

But here the door was ajar.

Maybe she had always been meant to see what was inside.

Catra stood paralyzed, staring up at Ms. Weaver’s looming form. And behind Ms. Weaver stood the mirror. The portal. The black pit that was home to the oily, formless shadows that surrounded Catra, that threatened to swallow her whole.

Adora froze on the doorstep.

This was wrong. 

In the waking world, she’d charged screaming into that miasma and taken Catra’s hand and dragged her away, and they hadn’t stopped running until they had left the house and those monstrous things far, far behind.

But there in the dream, Adora froze.

The shadows froze, too.

Ms. Weaver looked to the doorway, and the calm smile on her face filled Adora with a dread so deep and so cold it threatened to swallow her whole. 

_“There you are, child,”_ Ms. Weaver said.

And the portal behind her opened its eyes.

* * *

Adora woke with a scream. 

So did Catra.

Exhaustion had finally taken its toll. They’d overslept. The orange glow of sunset was long dead. It was the night of the third day, and their luck had finally run out.

The servant that found them was unlike any they’d seen before. When it rose over the edge of the bodega’s roof, it was like a heavy curtain being pulled over the dull orange streetlights. It swallowed up the pale light of what few stars dotted the sky. The sound of traffic faded to nothing. It was as silent and dark as the bottom of a grave.

Adora wrapped her arms around Catra’s trembling body as the blood in her veins turned to ice. She didn’t move. She didn’t breath. She would have stopped her heart if she could, because she was absolutely sure that this thing would be able to hear its traitorous beating.

The shadow pulled itself onto the flat asphalt roof with claws like the wingtips of a bat. If it kept up like this it would swallow the roof whole, and their hiding place with it.

“Catra,” Adora said. Her voice was the barest, tiniest whisper, and it shook like a dead leaf in a storm. 

Her friend’s mismatched eyes stared up at her through her unkempt mane of hair, glassy and blurred with tears. “I know,” she said.

The creature crept closer. It wasn’t just silent, it was a void that swallowed sound. It was a candle being snuffed out. It was a pillow pressed to the face of a dying man. And it was drawing ever closer.

Catra gave her a short, fervent nod.

The two girls sprang to their feet and bolted for the fire escape.

And with a shriek that seemed to tear the very night, the servant took to the air and followed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a Dresden Files crossover but wound up more like Pan's Labyrinth instead. Oops! 
> 
> Basically, I was playing around with the idea of Catra and Adora being adopted by Shadow Weaver in a modern-day "the magic(k)al world is hidden" style urban fantasy setting. This is intended as a one-off/short story (currently broken into three chapters), but I'm tempted to keep it going.


	2. Umbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora and Catra are in a bit of a bind. Good thing they made a new friend.

Adora and Catra fled through the streets of Bright Moon City and every shadow seemed to teem with unnatural life. Every passing bus or late-night pedestrian left a puddle of inky blackness somewhere the streetlights didn’t reach, and that darkness had eyes. The more they ran, the more panic gripped Adora’s chest. There was nowhere to run _to._ The night was _Her_ dominion.

The shade was always behind them, losing ground but never the trail. It clambered over taxis and wormed its way between people that seemed utterly oblivious to their peril.

When it was finally out of view, Adora and Catra found the nearest hiding spot they could and collapsed to the ground, lungs heaving, legs burning. Adora wrapped Catra up in another desperately tight hug.

They were at the foot of a massive bridge spanning the black expanse of the East River. No street light shone here. The light of the moon could not reach them. 

The shadows were dark and complete.

A low whine escaped Catra’s throat.

“Adora,” she whispered.

Adora nodded. She felt it too. 

They weren’t alone.

A pair of eyes flashed in the darkness. Adora stifled a gasp, and she felt Catra go rigid against her. The other girl’s hand found hers, and when she grabbed on it felt cold and clammy.

The eyes watched them with detached amusement. They were wide and sharp, with catlike slit pupils, and they glowed a sickly yellow-green. 

Far off in the distance, Adora heard the shriek of Ms. Weaver’s shadow. 

“Who are you?” Her voice was fragile and quavering. She wanted to stand and face this thing, to keep Catra safe like she’d promised. But she was just worn too thin. 

A high, mocking laugh echoed out of every corner of that cavernous space. Catra’s grip on Adora’s hand tightened, and she squeezed back just as hard. Slowly, a wide, sharp-toothed smile joined the two unblinking eyes. “You can really see me? Oh, this is just too good.” 

The eyes and the smile drifted to their left, and Adora caught a glimpse of the thing’s silhouette, all pointed ears and gangly limbs. It towered over them. A forked tongue slipped between its razor-sharp teeth. “Two little humans with the Sight, wandering into my domain,” it murmured, savoring the words like they were wine. “How delightful.”

Adora twisted around, trying to put herself between Catra and the thing in the dark. “Who are you?” she said again.

Again, that high, tittering laugh. It made Adora’s skin crawl. Catra shivered violently. “Don’t be gauche, child. A Name is a powerful thing, not to be given lightly. If you must, you can call me Double Trouble.” The grin widened. “But there are more pressing matters at hand.”

A scream echoed through air, buzzing painfully in Adora’s ears and making her hair stand on end. It was louder. Closer.

“For example,” the voice carried on, “The Lady of Shadows seems to have taken quite the interest in you two.”

A tremor ran through Catra’s body. Adora glared at the twinkling eyes in the dark. “Can you help us or not?” She fought to keep the tremble out of her voice.

The eyes widened and the smile parted in mock offense. “You wound me. Of _course_ I can, children. You’re my guests, after all. Here.” Something rattled to the ground at Adora’s feet. She leaned forward and fumbled for it in the dark. Her hands fell upon a broken piece of sidewalk chalk and a jagged shard of broken glass.

“What are we supposed to do with this?”

“Draw a circle and get inside, of course.”

Adora stared back at the smug face in the shadows, but there wasn’t a hint of irony to be found there. Heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet, tugging Catra after her. The ground below them was dusty concrete, easy to draw on. Or it would have been if her hands hadn’t been shaking so badly. Catra stood at her side, gripping the piece of glass like it was a dagger and staring wide-eyed out into the dark.

A high-pitched keening wail echoed across the water.

Double Trouble prowled around them, pointing out spots where Adora had left a gap in the line. It took so, so much longer than she would have liked, but soon there was a pale yellow circle on the concrete slab, lopsided but complete. Catra and Adora huddled together in the center. “Now what?” Adora demanded. 

“Now,” Double Trouble said with a grin. “The circle needs power. Your blood will do nicely.”

Adora’s eyes widened, but Catra didn’t hesitate. She jabbed the heel of her palm with the broken glass, flinching and letting out a hiss of pain as blood welled from the wound. She fell to her knees and, at a nod from Double Trouble, let a drop of blood fall upon the chalk outline.

Adora felt a little electric shock jolt through her body, and her hair stood on end. The air around the circle shimmered like blacktop on a hot summer day.

“Perfect!” Double Trouble clapped their hands together. “And not a moment too soon.”

Adora’s heart slammed into overdrive - Ms. Weaver’s servant had just dropped from the bridge above. It was blacker than night and big enough to block out the lights of the city across the river, and it swallowed up ever more light and sound as it descended.

Then it saw them, and it _screamed_. 

The sound grabbed Adora by the heart and squeezed. She was suffocating. She had to run, they had to get _away_ or this thing would devour them whole.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Double Trouble said with a click of their tongue, fading back into the shadows. “Stand firm, children. Don’t leave the circle. No matter what.” The shadow reared back, spreading itself wide like a manta ray. Then it fell upon them. 

Catra latched herself to Adora’s side with a terrified shriek. Adora watched with her heart in her throat as the shadow swept in, and all her instincts screamed at her to run. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Catra’s shoulder, every inch of her body itching in anticipation of the blow, the claws and fangs and blades that would plunge into their flesh and drag them off into the night. 

The blow never came.

There was a thump like something heavy striking an aquarium window. Her heart pounding, Adora pried an eye open and saw that, somehow, the shadow had been rebuffed by their circle. It bounced off the invisible barrier and reared back, letting out a baleful hiss, and relief flooded Adora’s body. The tension in her muscles uncoiled and she almost dropped to the ground sobbing.

That relief was short-lived.

They were divers in a cage in shark-infested waters. But they had no boat. They had no way to surface. And there could be more sharks on the way.

Catra had come to the same conclusion. “What now?” Her voice was choked, tinged with panic. The shadow swept out its wing, slamming into the circle of protection, and she flinched, tightening her grip on Adora. 

“Now you’re safe,” Double Trouble said, “for the time being.”

Dread began to worm its way into a pit in Adora’s stomach. 

“Of course, that circle won’t hold up forever. I imagine you’ll make it to sunrise, unless the Lady deigns to commit more resources to retrieving you. Which, of course, she will.”

Catra’s breath was coming in short, painful-sounding gasps. Adora wrestled with panic, every blow against their invisible cage sending a jolt of fear up her spine. 

Double Trouble paced slowly, like a tiger planning a bloody escape from its cage. Their grin still shone in the dark. “Of course, I could offer you the power to save yourselves. But I don’t work for free, darlings.” The shade circled around, slipping between Double Trouble and the circle. Adora and Catra shrank back from it.

“We don’t have anything to give you,” Adora stammered. The shade lunged, and she flinched away from the impact, squeezing her eyes shut.

“But that’s not true at all,” Double Trouble said. Their voice was honey-sweet. “You have ten fingers each.”

The shadow threw itself against the barrier again. _Wham_.

“Two pairs of eyes.”

_Wham._

“Treasured memories. A beautiful voice. A firstborn child, if I'm feeling old-fashioned.”

_Wham. Wham. Wham._

Dread tightened its icy tendrils around Adora’s insides. 

“Oh, but children, I don’t want anything so gruesome from you!” Their eyes glittered in the dark. “I’d be helping you out of an awfully tricky spot, but all I ask is that you repay me in kind somewhere down the road. A favor to be held in reserve.”

Adora’s mind raced. It was a trap. It had to be. Everything was a trap. 

There were two long, dark hallways to choose from. At the end of one lay Double Trouble’s eyes and vulpine grin and gods knew what else, but at the end of the other was the _Room. Ms. Weaver._ The evil they knew.

An evil Catra knew too well. Adora’s friend heaved a breath and pulled away from her arms. “I’ll do it.”

“Catra!” Adora’s eyes went wide. 

But Catra stood firm. Her hands were balled into trembling fists, and she still flinched from every blow to the circle, but there was something hard in those mismatched eyes. 

Double Trouble’s smile was wide and terrible. “Then we have a deal.” Their words held an ominous weight, and the temperature around them seemed to drop a few degrees. Adora shuddered.

They went to work. Following Double Trouble’s instructions, Catra shakily drew strange symbols in chalk inside the circle while Adora looked on, her nerves slowly being worn away by the mindless shadow’s constant assault. Any minute now, she was sure that the invisible barrier would cave in.

Any minute now, Ms. Weaver would come steal Catra away and finish what she started.

Adora watched Double Trouble casually dodge the monster and call out instructions to Catra - a circle here, a line there - and she felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. _Please, please, please hurry._

It took an agonizingly long time - minutes that felt like hours. Adora never took her eyes off the shade. 

Finally, Double Trouble slipped past the wing of the creature and gave Catra’s work a decisive nod. They indicated the bloody bit of glass, discarded on the ground. “Bleed for it, and repeat after me.”

Catra’s breath came in short, ragged gasps. Sweat glued strands of hair to her brow. She knelt by the chalk runes and took up the makeshift knife in her uninjured hand. 

“Wait,” Adora said, and dropped to her knees. Catra looked up with a start. “We’ll do it together.”

“Adora,” Catra started to say, but Adora pushed on.

“Whatever happens from here on out, I’m with you.” She swallowed hard. “I promise.” And with that she took the blade from Catra and cut into her palm. It was a sharp, burning pain that made tears leap to her eyes, but she forced a nod, firm and fervent, and refused to look away from her friend. Catra, tired, bruised, haunted, but so much more courageous than she knew.

Catra bit her lip and nodded back. She opened the cut on her palm and then clasped hands with Adora like she never wanted to let go. Their blood dripped down their wrists and spattered the chalk sigil.

Double Trouble loomed over them in the dark, watching Adora with an expression approaching delight. Then they spoke a word in a language Adora had never heard before, and a second, and a third, all in a weird, hypnotic cadence. She felt her lips move, and realized belatedly that she was repeating those strange sounds as though she’d known them all her life, and Catra was doing the same.

The shadow creature redoubled its assault. With an unearthly howl it threw itself against the barrier hard enough to send a spray of white sparks raining down all around them. Adora watched it, but she felt cold. Detached. Double Trouble called out another word, and Adora and Catra spoke in unison, the air between them humming with energy.

With the fifth and final word, something snapped into place, and the circle blazed with a light so white and brilliant that Adora had to shield her eyes. The shadow let out a shriek of pain and rage, building in volume and intensity until she was sure it would deafen her.

And then it was gone, and there was silence.

“Wow,” Catra whispered.

“Wow,” Adora agreed.

It was over. They’d made it. Just like that, she was a puppet with its strings cut. All the fear and adrenaline drained from her body, and Adora slumped forward into Catra’s arms.

“ _Brava.”_ They were alone with Double Trouble once again. “Well done. How delightfully earnest.”

Adora was tired. So, so tired. Her head was resting heavily against Catra’s shoulder and she couldn’t have lifted it if she’d tried. “Adora?” Catra’s voice rasped in her ear. “Adora, are you okay?”

“Sleep, darlings.” Their voice was like a lullaby. “Breathe easy. We’ll have so much to discuss in the morning.”

Adora surrendered to her exhaustion. The world grew grey and fuzzy, and then it faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have too much to put here. Sinister faerie DT is an absolute delight to write (and Catra and Adora REALLY don't know what they've gotten themselves into).


	3. Totality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora and Catra get a good night's rest and make plans for the future.

_“Ms. Weaver?”_

_“Come in, Adora. Catrina.”_

_With a deep, steadying breath, Adora reached up to turn the doorknob. She gave Catrina - no, Catra - an encouraging smile, then pushed open the door and, for the very first time, walked into their foster mother’s library._

_It was the one room in the old house that neither of them had ever laid eyes on. Adora and Catra had explored everywhere else, even Ms. Weaver’s bedroom and, on one day when they’d been feeling particularly brave, the basement . But the library was under lock and key, off limits._

_Until now._

_Catra was Adora’s shadow as they stepped inside. The library was dark. Dark red carpet, dark wood shelves, countless books bound in dark red leather. There was a second level to the room, accessible by a black iron spiral staircase, and the shelves lined the walls up there too. A chandelier suspended from the ceiling was the only source of light, save the lamp on Ms. Weaver’s massive desk._

_A floorboard creaked under Adora’s foot and she nearly jumped out of her skin - it was so quiet that the noise was like a gunshot. Catra bumped into her from behind._

_Ms. Weaver glanced up from her desk, and Adora practically leaped to attention. As always, Ms. Weaver’s dark, piercing eyes seemed to see too much. Here in her inner sanctum? They may as well have drilled down to her very soul. Catra’s hand found hers and squeezed._

_Ms. Weaver frowned. “I said, come in. Close the door, Catrina.”_

_Catra reluctantly released Adora’s hand to obey. The door closed behind them with a solid, final click, and a hush fell over the room. Ms. Weaver pushed back her chair and stood._

_“Let’s begin.”_

* * *

_Adora felt Ms. Weaver’s presence behind her, tall and imperious. Catra knelt next to her, just out of arm’s reach, suppressing a flinch every time the woman stepped closer or moved somewhere in her peripheral vision. Adora did her best to obey orders, facing forward and controlling her breathing, but her stomach was in knots._

_They were kneeling on the floor, facing the mirror. It was framed by dark stained wood and tarnished with age._

_Catra and Adora exchanged a silent, sidelong look. The unspoken question between them was obvious._

_What’s going on?_

* * *

_Adora jumped when the lights died. The room was silent, save the dry rustle of a page turning in an ancient book. Ms. Weaver held a candle, and soon their eyes adjusted to the dark enough for Adora to see the outline of her face in the mirror. Pale, eyes sunken. Catra was barely a shadow._

_Her mouth felt dry._

_Adora was afraid of the dark._

* * *

_"Remain still. Be silent. Do not speak unless I ask you a question. And do not look away from the mirror."_

_Ms. Weaver paced behind them, flipping through her book. When she started to speak again, Adora couldn't understand the words._

_She hadn't noticed the strange writing around the mirror's edge._

* * *

_By the time Ms. Weaver fell silent, Adora's eyes had started to adjust to the light of the candle. Catra's face and her own looked back out of the mirror, pale and drawn. Catra's eyes were wide, pleading. Adora wanted to say something, reach out, but …_

_But Ms. Weaver told them not to._

_The skin on the back of her neck crawled._

_When a third face appeared in the mirror she almost screamed._

* * *

_"Tell me what you see."_

_Adora was petrified._

_It was like the outline of a man made out of smoke or static. Its limbs were long and spindly, its knuckles dragging down past its knees._

_It was crawling out of the mirror._

* * *

_“Idiot child! Can’t you follow one simple instruction?”_

_“Next time I’ll let it take you. Do you hear me, Catrina?”_

_“If you jeopardize Adora like that again, I'll dispose of you myself.”_

* * *

Adora roused from her dark dreams slowly, like a diver surfacing from the depths of the ocean.

Touch and feeling came first. She _felt_ like a sack of potatoes on a cold slab of rock. Her body was stiff and sore all over and when she tried to move she felt like it was going to give her a headache, somehow. Everything was clammy and damp.

Touch was no good. Hearing and smell came next. There was traffic in the distance. Waves gently lapping on the shore. The air was thick with exhaust, sewage, trash. _Good old Bright Moon._

Taste? Her mouth was sticky and gross. _Gods, I would kill for a toothbrush._

Adora heaved a breath and pried her eyelids open.

They were still under the bridge, still within the chalk circle on the concrete slab. Catra was lying on her side looking back at her. The other girl’s hair was a tangled, unruly mane. Her clothes were filthy, her face was dirty, her lip was split, but her amber and blue eyes gleamed with a bright, mischievous light that Ms. Weaver had never been able to snuff out.

Adora wanted to give her friend a hug more than anything. But her body felt, once again, about as mobile as a sack of potatoes. She settled for reaching out and lacing her fingers through Catra’s.

“We made it,” Catra murmured, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” Adora breathed. Her throat felt about as sticky and gross as her mouth did. She swallowed, coughed, and then dissolved into an involuntary fit, coughing and hacking as her body tried to clear her airways.

“Ugh, gross!” Catra laughed and scrambled back, swatting at her shoulder. “Stop. You’re ruining it.”

Adora took a deep, wheezing breath and wiped the tears out of her eyes. “Holy … sorry.”

“And your breath stinks.”

“ _You_ stink.”

“Darlings, please, we can all agree you’re both disgusting.”

A small part of Adora had been ready to write off everything that happened last night as some kind of bad dream, but that voice put those notions six feet under. With a shudder, she hauled herself to an upright position, and at her side Catra sprang to her feet. They watched warily as a skinny teen with bleach-blonde hair and bright blue eyes sashayed their way out from behind a concrete pillar. When they saw the two girls, they flashed a wide smile.

A very, _very_ wide smile.

“Double Trouble,” Catra said. As casually as she could (not very), she shifted over to put herself between Adora and their … host? Benefactor? Ally? 

_You have ten fingers each._

That smile suddenly made Adora feel awfully uneasy. She started to get to her feet, but her aching muscles screamed in protest, and a warning look from Catra was enough to get her to admit defeat.

Double Trouble strode over, balancing a heavy-looking paper grocery bag on their hip. “How noble. But you have nothing to worry about! Like I said last night, you are my guests, and I am but your humble host.”

Catra stood her ground. “How do we know we can trust you?”

Double Trouble stopped with their toes just beyond the edge of the chalk circle (their nails were painted black and looked an _awful_ lot like claws). They rocked back on their heels, still grinning. “I suppose you have a few things to learn if you’re going to survive in this world. Lesson one: I, children, am what they call a faerie, one of the _sidhe_. We cannot lie.”

Adora’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what she asked.”

Double Trouble’s eyes flashed yellow, and then in a blink they were blue again. “Very perceptive,” they said, waving a hand. “Fine, yes, yes, you can trust me.”

There was a pause while the wheels turned. “... _Should_ we trust you?” Catra asked.

“Oh, almost _certainly_ not,” Double Trouble replied cheerfully. “But if you’d like to try and teach yourselves enough magic to escape Shadow Weaver by nightfall, be my guest.”

 _Nightfall._ The word dropped like a rock in Adora’s stomach. Was last night going to be the new normal? Was Ms. Weaver just going to keep coming after them? She couldn’t think of anything to say. Catra’s shoulders slumped, and she had that haunted look to her again.

“Right!” Double Trouble said, powering ahead as though their lives _weren’t_ on the line. “Lesson two. Circles like this one are excellent at disrupting spells and keeping out magical beings, such as _moi._ ” And having just said that, Double Trouble stepped over the chalk line like it was nothing and plopped themself down cross-legged just inches from the two girls. 

“What the hell?” Catra snapped, flinching back. 

Double Trouble emptied the contents of their paper bag onto the ground between them. It looked like they’d cleared a shelf at the nearest bodega and called it a day. “Lesson three. Simple enchantments like your little circle are wiped away by the rising sun. Don’t trust a basic ward you left sitting overnight. _Anyone_ could slip right through it.” 

They winked.

“Hungry?”

Adora wanted to keep up the appearance of strength. She wanted to look unflappable and fearless.

But she was actually, literally starving, and so was Catra. The sight of the brightly-colored junk food labels made her stomach growl so loudly it hurt. Catra looked like she was about to start drooling.

Double Trouble heaved a sigh. “Don’t be so nervous, darlings. It’s a gift, freely given with no expectation of recompense. As your humble host -” they bowed at the waist “- I live to serve.” 

Adora snatched up a bag of Cheese Doodles and tore it open with such ferocity that she almost shotgunned the neon-orange crisps right into Catra’s face. 

* * *

“So, do you like, live down here?” Catra said.

Adora was busy gnawing on a stick of Lumberjack™ Hot Szechuan jerky. She had a can of lukewarm Dr. Pibb balanced on her left knee, and a half-empty pack of gummy worms on the right. In the abstract, she knew that this was a recipe for the absolute worst stomach ache of her entire life. Even a fast food cheeseburger would be preferable to the chemical waste she was gorging herself on. But that was a problem for future Adora.

“I do,” Double Trouble replied. “In a sense.”

Catra tossed an empty bag of pork rinds off to the side and picked up a tall can covered in eye-hurting neon font that included the name “DRAGON BLOOD”. 

“Lemme see that,” Adora said. Or tried to. The mouthful of jerky got in the way. She made grabby-hands at the can.

Catra handed it off without looking. 

Adora peered suspiciously at the can. _DRAGON BLOOD - Unleash the Beast._ _12.0% ALC/VOL. Contains caffeine, taurine, and guarana._

Double Trouble’s grasp of appropriate food and drink for human kids left a lot to be desired. Catra would probably have a heart attack if she drank that. As discreetly as she could, Adora pitched it over her shoulder in the direction of the river. 

Catra was too busy scrutinizing Double Trouble to notice. She cracked open a different can of soda, staring narrow-eyed at their host all the while. “‘In a sense’, meaning what?”

The blonde teen grinned. “Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”

Double Trouble rubbed their hands together. Something shimmered in the air around them, like iridescent dust coming off the wings of a butterfly. The faerie drew their hands apart, still dripping with that strange opalescent sheen, and flicked some right in Adora and Catra’s faces.

Catra let out a squawk of protest, and Adora toppled back in shock, her soda spilling to the ground. Her eyes stung. For a brief, heartstopping second she thought that Double Trouble had just blinded her. But the sensation faded to a sort of tingle, and when it cleared it became apparent that wasn’t the case.

Quite the opposite, in fact. 

The underside of the bridge had been a dump. The concrete supports had been stained and covered in graffiti, and a slope of rubble had led up to the rusted steel support beams. But as her eyes cleared, that dingy facade shimmered and fell away, revealing what lay beneath. Spidersilk-thin strings dotted with eerie green lights dangled between the supports. Strange plants in unnatural pastel shades of blue, pink and purple sprouted from the cracks in the concrete. And the rubble at the base of the slope dissolved away to reveal a rich silk curtain in an intricately engraved bronze doorway. Pale green light glowed within.

They’d been sitting on the doorstep of Double Trouble’s personal sanctum this whole time.

As the veil fell away, Double Trouble’s appearance shifted before their eyes. The freckled teen melted into a morass of black void and green sparkles. The figure that took their place wasn’t remotely human. 

It was the silhouette that Adora had seen the night before, unmasked and revealed to the light of day. Double Trouble was frighteningly tall, unnaturally thin, covered head to toe in tiny green scales that shimmered in the light. Their hair was platinum blonde and floated on the breeze almost in defiance of gravity. The eyes and pointed ears and wicked grin were all too familiar.

They were wearing, of all things, a poofy black dress and high-heeled boots.

Catra’s can of Crown Cola slipped out of her hand.

Double Trouble rose with fluid grace and bowed deeply. “Lesson four. You’ve been gifted with the Sight. You’re part of the hidden world. But magic can hide some things deeper still.” 

Adora’s head swam a little at the notion. _We have no idea what we’ve gotten ourselves into, do we?_

Catra’s watched the whole display with wide eyes. Her mouth worked open and closed, until she finally found her words. "Holy _shit_ you have to teach me how to do that!"

“All in good time, darling.” Double Trouble held out their slender hands to Catra and Adora. “Why don’t we start by making sure the two of you live through the night?”

Catra and Adora exchanged a Look. 

Double Trouble was maybe the closest thing they had to a friend or ally out of all the millions of people who lived in Bright Moon, and that terrified Adora. They were so far over their heads she couldn’t tell which way was up, and they were going to use this elf-goblin they couldn’t even trust for a lifeline? Ms. Weaver had been cold and even cruel at times, but things had made sense in her home. Maybe …

No. 

Adora thought of the shadows closing in on Catra. She _wouldn’t_ go back to that woman. Not now, not ever. 

Adora nodded decisively, and Catra nodded back. Her friend's grin worried Adora just a little, but. That was an issue for another time.

They each took one of Double Trouble’s cool, dry hands.

And together they walked through that shimmering silk curtain, under that strange bronze archway. Into a strange new world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks! Obviously this is more of a stopping point than a definitive end to the story, but this seemed like as good a place as any to leave it.
> 
> If there's anything that confused you OR that you'd like to see more of, feel free to let me know in the comments. I started writing this story literally three days ago, so I'll be the first to admit there are probably things I missed or that I could stand to go back and edit. Eg, I realized when I was almost done that I didn't really specify that Catra and Adora are supposed to be like 12-13, I wasn't super clear on Shadow Weaver's name, etc. 
> 
> This story started its life as a Dresden Files crossover, so the magic system is heavily based on that series, but I also took some elements from the universe of Pact, by wildbow. And also Pale, by the same author, which is an ongoing web serial set in that same universe. All worth checking out if you get the chance.
> 
> Finally, I have some more ideas for where this could go, but I'll probably do some more outlining and preparation in the future. Haven't decided yet whether a continuation would be it's own separate work or simply additonal chapters added to this one, so, you know, watch this space.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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